Desire
by anicol
Summary: Nausicaa is accustomed to the idea of arranged marriage, but Odysseus sees something behind her defiance. A brief reflection on the nature of desire, whether unbidden or not.


_This piece was written in October 2008 for my freshman writing seminar. The assignment was to take a scene from Homer's Odyssey and write it from a point of view other than the main character's. I immensely enjoyed writing this piece and it was largely responsible for re-sparking my interest in creative writing._

_The piece is written from the perspective of Nausicaa, a young girl Odysseus encounters midway through the poem. I based my writing on a line in which Alcinous, king of the island on which Odysseus finds himself stranded after escaping Poseidon's wrath and Nausicaa's father, offers Nausicaa in marriage to Odysseus. In the poem, Odysseus refuses, and the reader might assume it is because of his undying fidelity for his wife, Penelope. However, I was intrigued as to how Nausicaa, who I venture as no older than fourteen, might react to an arranged marriage. And what would make Alcinous so desperate as to marry his young daughter off to a complete stranger? Furthermore, I am not convinced that Odysseus was as faithful as Homer likes to portray him - he was far too crafty. Anyway, all of these thoughts coalesced into a very brief exploration of the position of women in society in ancient times and ultimately the myriad natures of desire, which you may read below, if you've managed to make it past this very long-winded author's note._

* * *

The moon hung full and heavy in the sky, its silver orb reflected on the motionless black water far below. All was still save for a gentle breath of wind that swept upwards off the salt sea and teased a lock of hair, lifting it, then dropping it back against her cool cheek. She sat on the broad windowsill, knees bent and bathed in silver light that spilled backwards into the room and cast dim, wistful shadows across the floor and against the wall.

A ship, white canvas sail still folded against the mast, drifted out of harbor, and she exhaled softly, attempting to dislodge the heaviness that settled in her chest, a weight on her sternum. Uncomfortable, but not unfamiliar. She watched the prow of the ship crest a moon-gilded wave, then dip back down into an expanse of dark.

* * *

"You can have her, if you want."

Odysseus looked up at the statement that issued from across the table. A hint of a smile played on his lips. Nausicaa didn't move. She merely stared straight forward, hands folded neatly in her lap, her dark eyes and porcelain features betraying nothing.

Alcinous sighed and looked away, fingers drumming agitatedly on the arm of his chair, while his wife sat quietly by his side with eyes downcast. Glancing back, he added quickly, "She's of the proper age. And she has a fine dowry. I'm sure you wouldn't find it lacking. You could settle down here and…" His words trailed off.

Odysseus leaned back in his chair and swilled his wine, a small smile still turning up the corners of his mouth. He glanced at the girl sitting next to him, but Nausicaa only continued to stare stonily at some point on the opposite wall. She'd trained herself to grow indifferent to the pleading note in her father's voice, to pretend his disappointment at the inability to find her a husband didn't hurt. After all, this is what fathers did with their daughters. Married them off. She was chattel, but it didn't bother her, not much at least. She'd learned long ago that each was allotted their own in life; there was no use resisting.

Alcinous coughed lightly and met his guest's eyes. "I know she may look a little young, but she's a good girl, obedient. Give it a year or two and she'll blossom nicely."

A bright bark of amusement leapt from Odysseus' grinning mouth. He fixed his eyes on the girl again, then set his wine down and leaned towards her. Slowly, lightly, he trailed the fingers of his right hand up her left thigh, but Nausicaa didn't flinch. He smirked. _So obstinate._

"I suppose you might be worth the trouble." His breath was hot against her neck, and he was pleased to see the girl visibly tense, fingernails digging into her palms, a faint color rising in her pale cheeks. She whipped her head around and their eyes met, hers full of a sudden ferociousness, his only mild amusement. Surprised, she drew back slightly. She'd been expecting lust, like so many of the other men who had sat in his place and been given the same offer. But there was simply an air of calculation, like he was studying her, weighing her against some unknown.

_Those eyes… _She found herself drawn into them, so deep and cunning, like they were staring directly through the bars of her soul. And suddenly she was naked in front of this man, more naked than she'd felt with any other, stripped of all pretense, every layer of her being shed before his keen gaze. The thought was like a shock running through her body. She felt herself take a sharp breath and swallow, inexplicably nervous. And then it was over, as abruptly as it had begun. Odysseus raised an eyebrow and frowned. Shrugging, he turned away and took another sip of wine. Nausicaa found herself staring stunned at empty air. The heavy silence in the room stretched for an eternity and then collapsed as her father shifted disappointedly in his chair and she turned once more empty eyes back to the far wall.

* * *

Shadows stretched inch by inch across the floor. The ship was shrinking further into the distance, but her eyes continued to follow its slow trek out to sea, the only sign of its passage a gentle, lingering wake that stretched towards her. She wanted to step out of her window and follow behind that ship, follow the path the stern carved through gently rolling waves, follow the man who had seen more of her than any other.

The moon, pregnant with her desire, illuminated the tiny dot that was his ship, before it crossed the black horizon, lost forever. And the weight on her chest condensed, so familiar in its want, a hard ball of regret she squeezed tighter and tighter, forcing deep inside her. The wind swept upwards again, a whisper of longing that brushed her lips and then drifted back out to sea.


End file.
